


What if Mihashi was Tsundere?

by TheLaughingManic



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-29
Updated: 2011-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-25 01:30:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLaughingManic/pseuds/TheLaughingManic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rewrites of certains scenes and episodes with a realistic-ish tsundere!Mihashi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A True Ace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dekodashi (Kraze)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Dekodashi+%28Kraze%29).



> This was inspired/written for the lovely dekodashi/Kraze (flavors.me/dekodashi). She has some of the CUTEST Oofuri fanart around. Seriously, go give her some love.
> 
> So basically, I was following her tumblr and something came up on my dashboard about a tsundere!Mihashi, and I was like 'HAVE TO WRITE'. (This pic actually --> http://dekodashi.tumblr.com/post/8232613179)
> 
> EDIT: Unfortunately, my friend deleted her art blog. The picture in question is in [this collection](http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=20828901). Please visit her! She has a lot of great stuff! <3  
> EDIT2: Found a reblog on tumblr, [here](http://pearsilklisa.tumblr.com/post/106937487717/pocari-tears-dekodashi-what-if-mihashi-was-a)
> 
> This is one scene in a series because I'm planning (read: hoping) to rewrite a bunch of famous scenes with tsundere!Mihashi. Except knowing me, I don't know how successful I'll be in this endeavor (read: incredibly lazy).
> 
> Oofuri leans on the realistic side in terms of character and character development so I tried to avoid a flat, cookie-cutter tsundere stereotype. Though I don't know, I might be screwing myself over in terms of character development by going out of order with the scenes but I did rewrite Mihashi's background with Mihoshi in my head to see how he might have turned out tsundere. Don't worry though, the chapters are posted chronologically. I'm sorry if my take doesn't live up to your expectations but I do hope you enjoy the fic anyway.

"Mihashi."

Jumping around at his name, the pitcher barely caught the ball thrown at him.  Glancing around the field, he saw a mix of hostile and friendly faces.

The sad thing was, the friendly faces all belonged to the opposing team.

He turned back around, hiding his face under the brim of his hat.  So what?  He didn't need teammates to pitch.

He gulped, and tentatively peered out from under his hat to look at the catcher.  No signs.

He swallowed again.  _Alright, fine.  Technically, I also don't need a catcher to pitch._

He could feel tears gathering in his eyes.  He bit his lip.

 _I'm sorry, everyone.  I really am._

Goddammit, he wasn't going to cry.  He wasn't going to give _them_ the satisfaction of watching him cry.

 _Why wouldn't you guys give me a chance?_

He stood up and gathered himself futilely.  He still trembled like an aspen.

 _Screw you guys.  It's not like I care about pitching all that much anyway._

He knew that wasn't true.  Didn't matter anyway.  They still hated him.

 _So what?  They don't need me, I don't need them.  I'm a pitcher; I stand alone on the mound._

He took a deep breath.  Not that it helped.

 _I'm not going to cry.  I'm not going to cry.  I'm not going to cry._

He repeated it like a mantra.  He wound up, grasping the ball tightly . . .

 _I'm not going to cry!_

. . . and threw.

 _BECAUSE I DON'T NEED ANY OF YOU!_

~*~

New term, new grade, new school.

No one knows him here.

Not that he cared.  Being a loner suited him just fine.

Mihashi walked along the path that lead to the athletic grounds.  All around him were stands and groups calling out to the new students to join this club or that team, though Mihashi didn't hear them, lost as he was in his memories.

 _"Did you hear?  Mihashi's not going into the high school."_

 _"Are you serious?  Woohoo!  Then I'm going to keep playing baseball in high school."_

 _"We're finally free from those lousy pitches."_

 _"Do you think he'll keep playing at his new school?"_

 _"Nah, he wouldn't have left if he wanted to keep playing.  This is the only place he can play as a regular."_

Mihashi scowled.  He knew that.  Even if he joined the high school baseball club, there was no way they'd let him pitch, much less as a regular.  Not that it mattered.  He really didn't care about pitching.

If he wasn't going to pitch, there was no point in joining the baseball club.  So . . .

He checked the handwritten map. 

. . . since that was the case, all he was going to do was take a peek, a glance, just to check it out.  A peek, that's all.

He stopped at the gate to the fields.  Should he go in?  Nah, he'll just look from here and lea--

"GAH!"  Crap, he screamed like a four-year-old.  He turned around warily to see who had just grabbed his shoulder.  Before him stood a woman dressed in a mint green tracksuit.  "Uh . . .?" he ventured.  She just grinned, grabbed his arm, and started dragging him to who knows where.

"Wait, no . . . uh, er, um . . . what . . . stop," he muttered, trying to free himself uselessly.  Damn, she was strong.

"Another one came!" she yelled enthusiastically.  There was a ragtag group of guys loitering around the baseball diamond.  "Your name?" she asked, turning to him with a pencil and notepad.

"Ah, er, Mihashi," he stammered out.  _What's going on?_

"Position?" _I can't keep up!_

"Pitcher," he answered without thinking.  He immediately covered his mouth.  _What am I doing!?_  

"Alright!  We got a pitcher!"  _Wait, what?_

"Huh?" he answered stupidly. _Did that mean . . . ?_

The woman started to rattle off an introduction but Mihashi could only catch snippets like "only freshmen", "first year hardball", "your coach, Momoe Maria", "Mr. Shiga", and something about a dog.  When she concluded though, he still nodded absently as if he understood.

"So, now that we finally got our long-desired pitcher," she started, "Let's go through a quick position check."  Already!?  At the breakneck pace this woman was going, Mihashi felt lucky if he could catch names.

 _So, wait, catcher Abe . . . and infielder Sakaeguchi . . . other fielders . . . ?_

"Me, me!  I'm Tajima!  Third and cleanup!" a short and energetic freckled kid piped up. 

"Third and cleanup?  That's pretty amazing," Mihashi said before he could stop himself.  He flinched.  _Crap, I did it again!_  

"I was cleanup too but I decided I'm not going to join the team after all."  Mihashi turned to the source of the new voice.  Some tall kid with a beanie.

The woman-- wait, no, Momoe?  Momoe ran up to him asking why.  _I think she said his name was Hanai . . . ?_

"Because the coach is a girl," Hanai answered.  Mihashi snapped out of his thoughts.  He didn't really just say that, right?

"A female coach?" he continued, "It's kind of hard to swallow.  Besides, I really don't care enough to play."

That caught Mihashi's attention.  _Wait, aren't I the same?  I really don't care about baseball and pitching, right?  So what am I doing here?_   Before he could go on though, his thoughts were once again diverted, this time with a clanking sound.

Momoe was bouncing a baseball on a bat.  _What is she . . .?_

"Catch!" she cried before striking the ball straight up into the air.  Mihashi's eyes widened as he watched the ball become a tiny point in the sky before falling with a soft thud into someone's mitt.  _I think that was the catcher . . ._

Mihashi stood stupefied as he tried to gather his thoughts but before he could, Momoe was once again talking.

"That's right, we have juice!  Does anybody want to drink some?"  Juice?  But all he could see were oranges . . .

 _Uwahh!_   He blanched, taking a step back, as Momoe squashed the oranges with her bare hands, squeezing the juice out of them into a metal bowl before pouring it into a plastic cup and offering it with a deceptively friendly smile to Hanai.

 _He took it_ , Mihashi thought nervously.  Hanai looked like he was about to cry.  _He's drinking it . . . No way--_

And then Momoe was before the rest of them, carrying the 20kg bag of oranges on her shoulder like it was nothing and asking if they wanted to drink some too.  Mihashi shook his head fervently, trembling as he thought, _High school coaches are scary . . ._

"Mihashi . . . kun?"  Mihashi turned around to see another boy (Abe?) offering him a ball.  "Could you show me your pitching just a little?"

Mihashi glanced at the ball.  _That's right, I'm the only pitcher here.  I can pitch here.  I can be a pitcher._   A small flame of yearning started burning in Mihashi's chest before he forcefully stomped it out.  Once again:  He.  Didn't.  Care!

"I-I," he began.  No.  He can't stutter here.  He has to be firm; he already made his decision a long time ago anyway.  He turned slightly so he was no longer facing the catcher and crossed his arms.  "I'm not . . . going to join . . . either," he stated haltingly.  He frowned; it wasn't perfect but at least he didn't stutter.

Idiot.  What was he doing, getting carried away like that and saying he was a pitcher?  It's not like he wants to pitch, right?  He didn't need to pitch, he didn't need to play baseball.

Didn't need to have useless obligations like "teammates".

Goddammit, why was he crying?

"Did I say something to make him cry?" Abe asked, a little bewildered.  Another boy shook his head, just as confused.

"I'm not crying," Mihashi muttered, trying to surreptitiously wipe his tears away.  "Besides, even if I throw, it's meaningless."

"Why?" prompted Abe.

 _Tell him it's because you don't give a crap._   "My balls are slow," came out instead.  Which was true.

"I don't think anybody's holding such high expectations.  Were you a relief pitcher?"

 _Tell him it doesn't matter, you're not going to join._   He ended up answering Abe's question with a shake of his head.

"So you were a regular.  Which middle school?"

"Mi--" he started.  _Why are you answering?_   "Mihoshi," he finished.

"Mihoshi?  Don't know of it.  Do you?" Abe asked, addressing another boy.

"Not really . . ."

"Do you perhaps mean Mihoshi Academy from Gunma Prefecture?"  Mihashi turned to the new voice.  It was the teacher . . . Mr. Shiga, was it?  A dog was sleeping in his arms.

 _Tell them 'good-bye, sorry for wasting your time,' and walk away now!_   He nodded stiffly, cursing himself.

"Ohhhhh," the teacher and a boy with floppy brown hair exclaimed.

"So you're from Gunma?" Abe asked.

"Outside his school zone!  Wow, we're like a foreigners' league!  So cool!"  That was the short, energetic boy from earlier.  Third and cleanup, right?  _Wait a minute, why do I care?_

"Idiot, our school doesn't recruit baseball players."  Another kid.

"So why Saitama?"  A kid from earlier.  Sakae-something . . .

"Dad got a new job or something?"  A new voice.  The questions were coming too fast now; it was overwhelming.  He couldn't think!

"If this was a private school, it'd be another matter, but it's public--"

"Just shut the hell up!" a voice shouted.  Mihashi jumped, turning to face the source.  That tall kid that drank the orange juice earlier - Hanai.  "You were the ace, weren't you?," the boy continued angrily, "You were the best on the team, right?  Stop bragging in such a damn roundabout way!"

Mihashi reddened.  What was with that tone?  "You're wrong!" he started, piqued.

"No the hell I'm not!" Hanai countered, rushing up to him.  This guy is _tall_.

Mihashi tried not to gulp.  He could feel the stutter coming back as his nervousness grew.  "I-I was an a-ace . . . there because of . . . of fav-favoritism," he explained.  He grimaced internally; not something he wanted to recall, let alone bring up.

The boy backed off slightly.  Thank god.  "Favoritism?" he repeated, frowning.

"Aww, how nice!  Even if it's favoritism, I wanna be an ace!" the short cleanup commented.

"How so?" Abe asked.

Mihashi bit his lip.  Dammit, he just wanted to bury the whole craptastic thing and never think about it again.  He curled up, crouching on the ground, as he started tearing up again.  It hurt.  All of . . . _that_ was still so recent, so fresh, in his memory.  Still so _raw_.

"Be-because it's . . . it's my . . . grandpa's s-school," he said finally.  Reluctantly.  He wrapped his arms around his head as if to hide.  All around him, the other guys were uttering soft ohhh's and wow's.

"Just because you're the principal's grandkid, they made you the ace?" Abe summaraized flatly, "What a lousy school."

Mihashi was planning to stay silent in agreement.  Instead, his traitor mouth said, "It's not the coach's fault."  Well, that was true, at least.  He didn't particularly blame anyone for his experiences there; that was due to his selfishness.  But he also didn't particularly care about anyone from his old team so why was he defending the coach?

Mihashi realized to his horror that his mouth was still moving, still producing words.  "I-I . . . could've given up the m-mound . . . or . . . or quit e-entirely."  And to top it all off, he was stuttering.  "Probably b-better if I had . . . done one o-of . . . those things.  I was a-aware . . . of that."  He couldn't stop.  "Bu-but frankly . . . I d-didn't care either way . . . wh-whether I p-pitched or not . . . s-so I . . . just stayed.  On the mound.  All th-three years.  Be-because I was al-already . . . there anyway."  He stared at the ground, face red from a multitude of conflicted feelings.  "I know that . . . that it's m-my fault . . . that everyone c-couldn't enjoy baseball . . . and that . . . we lost a-all the time.  Th-they all hate baseball because of . . . me."  Here, he unwrapped his head from his arms and looked straight up at Abe, trying very hard not to cry.  "B-but I . . . I d-don't . . . don't gi-give a d-damn . . . about th-them or . . . o-or anyone el-else . . . or b-baseball . . . so . . . that's wh-why . . . I'm n-not . . . even g-going . . . to join."  He glared at Abe, daring him to challenge that so obviously true statement.  Despite the fact that he was still crouched on the ground, trembing like a little baby bird.

Abe just exhaled loudly.  "You," he began, "Are really annoying." 

Mihashi stiffened.  Well, that stung.  Mihashi averted his eyes and shook himself mentally, quickly reminding himself that this guy's opinion didn't matter to him.

"I don't know where all this 'I don't care' crap is coming from," Abe continued, "And I don't really understand your reasoning but the fact that you didn't give up the mound is a good quality in a pitcher." 

This time, Mihashi blushed.  Hotly.  _Did this guy just compliment me?_   "A good . . . quality?" he repeated dumbly.  When he realized he was staring up at Abe, he reddened even further and quickly turned his gaze back to the ground.

"Well, there's no doubt that you were a jerk," he added indifferently.  Mihashi twitched and scowled, once again telling himself that he didn't care about this guy's opinion, regardless of unclear compliments.

"But, you know, as a pitcher," Abe went on, "I like you."  He smiled, grey eyes friendly.

All of a sudden, Mihashi felt way too hot.  He stared up at Abe, eyes wide and heart thumping way too loudly.  "Like . . .?" he mumbled quietly.  That was the first time anyone told him that they liked hi--

 _WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING?!_

Mihashi slapped himself mentally, and hurriedly looked back to the ground again, face burning for a different reason this time.  He tried to calm his racing heart down as he frantically thought,  _Get it together, Mihashi!  You're not gay, you're not gay, you'renotgayyou'renotgayyou'renotgay, YOU ARE NOT **GAY**!  And besides, he didn't mean it like that.  He said 'as a pitcher'.  Yeah, that's right, focus on that._   Mihashi paused as a new thought struck him. _But wait, he hasn't even seen me throw . . . so in other words, in order to get out of this . . ._

"Sorry," he said, standing up.  He refused to look Abe in the face so he turned his back to him and spoke over his shoulder.  "If it'll make you guys leave me alone, I'll show you my pitching."  Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Abe nod.

"But," Mihashi added in a wry tone, "Like I said, I don't really care about pitching that much so I apologize in advance if I disappoint you."  Walking past Abe, he shrugged off his gakuran jacket, borrowed a mitt from someone, thanking them with a nod, and approached the mound.

He brushed his foot against the white bar, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.  He couldn't deny it; it _did_ feel nice to stand on a pitcher's mound again.  Bittersweetly, though, because it only reminded him of his isolation.  _A pitcher stands alone on the mound_ , Mihashi mused absently.

"We spent our spring break working on the field," Abe said, jerking Mihashi out of his thoughts.  "See?  You can tell that we haven't started on the outfield yet."  He gestured towards the back of the field where it was overrun with grass and weeds.  A few of the other boys were walking around and checking it out or playing catch. 

"We piled the dirt here," Abe went on, a friendly smile playing around his lips, "All the while wondering what kind of pitcher will stand here."  Looking back at Mihashi, he asked, "What do you think of the mound I made?"

Mihashi stared at the ground, hugging the mitt to his chest.  This guy made him feel entirely too self-conscious.  Especially when he smiled.  "It'll do," Mihashi muttered at last, looking off to the side.

Abe twitched and scowled.  Gritting his teeth and taking a few deep breaths, he approached the other boy and handed him a ball, saying, "It's been a while since you've last pitched, correct?  Try not to overdo it to--"

"Oh, don't worry about that, I've been throwing," Mihashi interrupted without thinking.  Distracted by the ball, he fiddled with it, relishing the feel and weight of it in his hand. 

"But I thought you said you didn't care?" Abe questioned skeptically.  Mihashi blanched, almost dropping the ball, and covered his mouth with the mitt.  _Crap!_   His mind raced trying to find a way to cover his slip-up.

Abe studied him a bit before letting out a small, sharp breath and adding, "Well, whatever the case, it's great if you've been practicin--"

"I-it's not like I was training or anything," Mihashi hurriedly cut in, cheeks burning, "J-just casually."  Abe still looked skeptical.  "So don't expect too much," Mihashi added, turning away and crossing his arms.

Abe sighed.  "Alright, I'm not.  Just throw as you like."  With that, Abe went over and crouched down behind home plate.

Feeling eyes on his back, Mihashi peeked behind him to find that, indeed, all the rest of the guys have come over to observe his pitching.  He jumped and swallowed nervously. 

 _What the hell?  Do all of them really want to watch?  Not that I care.  That's right, I don't care.  I don't care about baseball or pitching or teammates anymore.  That's what I resolved when I decided to leave Mihoshi._   He swallowed again, shoving down the pain that threatened to rise and spill out of him with his tears.  He wiped his eyes and straightened his shoulders.  _Never again_ , he reminded himself.  _I'll just hurry up and throw.  Show them how lousy of a pitcher I am and leave.  Be done with the whole thing._

But Mihashi has his pride.  And his principles.  He would give his all into the pitch, just like before. 

Just like always. 

He couldn't help it if his pitches were lousy despite trying his best. 

He breathed in deep and wound up. 

 _Just get it over with._

And threw.

The ball landed in Abe's mitt with a familiar smack.

"Damn, that's slow!" someone remarked after a moment.  Sounded like that tall kid, Hanai.

Mihashi stiffened.  _I wasn't asking for your opinion_. 

Well, that was that.  Mihashi sighed and turned to leave.  He was done.  He can finally go on and live his life quietly and alone like he wishe--

"Mihashi!" 

 _Huh?_   Mihashi turned just in time to catch the ball Abe threw back to him.  He then sat back down and rearranged himself into the usual catching position.

Mihashi blinked slowly.  A little uncertain, he took a step and threw again.  Abe immediately returned the ball, not even bothering to stand up.

 _Still?_   Perplexed and not entirely sure what was going on, Mihashi threw again.  And again.  And again.

After the third or fourth pitch, Abe stood up and strode over to him.  Mihashi balked and forcefully quelled the urge to run away. 

He did flinch though when Abe demanded (rather loudly), "Mihashi!  Pitch types?"  Mihashi could swear he saw stars sparkling in the catcher's eyes.

"Uh, um . . ." Mihashi fumbled lamely, a bit thrown off by the guy's behavior.

"So no breaking balls, huh?" Hanai commented scornfully.

"I do too!" Mihashi retorted, a bit piqued.  _What is this guy's problem?_

"Pitch types?" Abe repeated eagerly.  Mihashi could still see stars . . .  _And for that matter, what's with_ this _guy?_

Mihashi shook his head, trying to clear his head.  He didn't want to list them straight out because then they would know he actually cared about pitching.  No, better to play dumb here.

"Um, something like this," he started, hand vaguely tracing the flight paths, "Which is maybe a curveball.  Then maybe a screwball.  And something's that supposed to be a slider.  And something like this.  I don't know, I didn't care enough to differentiate."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Abe questioned, studying him, "Have you ever actually gone through any formal pitching training?"  Mihashi shook his head, unsure of where this was going.

"I see, so that's why," Abe muttered to himself.  Addressing the pitcher again, he said, "Mihashi, let's decide on our signs."

"Signs!?" Mihashi squeaked.  _Wait, wait!  I thought I was done!_

"Also, Hanai," Abe moved on. Mihashi was panicking.  He was definitely panicking.

"What do you want?" Hanai smirked.

"Could you go stand in the batter's box?"  Mihashi didn't like this new turn of events.  Didn't like it at all.  Why won't they let him leave already?

"Sorry, man, but I have no desire to join the team."  Hanai turned to go.

"You were the cleanup, correct?" Abe continued.  "Why don't we have a three-at-bat challenge?"  He grinned, obviously egging the other on.  _Wait, what!?_

That stopped the taller boy.  "Challenge?" Hanai echoed, turning around.

 _A challenge!?_   Mihashi corrected himself:  He was panicking _now_.  He stood there frozen as he sank deeper and deeper into his swirling thoughts, barely registering the continuing exchange going on between Abe and Hanai.

 _But I'm the only pitcher, right?  So that means it's a challenge between me and Abe-kun as pitcher and catcher against Hanai as batter, right?  What the hell?  There's no way we can win against this guy!  Especially not with my pitches!  Wait, more importantly, why am I still here?  I thought if I pitched a few, they would go, "Oh he sucks, nevermind," and let me leave.  Instead, I'm find myself getting sucked further and further in.  Signs!?  I'm pretty sure he mentioned signs.  I don't even want to join!  What is going ON!?  Never again, I promised myself so why is this happening?  Why am I ALLOWING this to happen?  That's it, I have to leave.  I have to leave befo--_

"Mihashi," Abe called, gesturing him over to the dugout.

"Ah, right."  _Crap!_

The two of them sat down on the benches, facing each other.

"There were signs you were using before, right?" Abe started, "I'll learn them so let's just keep on using them."

Mihashi refused to look at him and instead glanced around the wall, the benches, and the ground.  He worked his mouth before finally deciding he might as well answer Abe.  "Signs . . . it's been a while."  When prompted to explain, he added, "It's probably because the catcher . . . hated me a lot.  I guess.  N-not that I cared."  He frowned; it wouldn't do to stutter every time he tried to lie.  To others or to himself.  Uncomfortable under Abe's steady gaze, he tried to shift the topic.  "That guy . . . mentioned he was cleanup," Mihashi commented, looking out to the field.

"I know," Abe replied, turning his head to observe the tall kid.  Hanai had taken off his sweater and was warming up with a few swings.  "You'll be fine.  During middle school, I've seen him play plenty of times.  He's your usual power hitter."

"More than that, though," Mihashi began, a little of his panic turning into frustration, "I thought you said you'd leave me alone after I showed you my pitching!"

"You were the one that decided that," Abe responded coolly, "For my part, I never promised anything like that."  Mihashi jerked back, making a face.  He searched frantically for another way to get out--

"Besides, you're not done 'showing', are you?" Abe continued.  Crap, this guy had him cornered!

"Will you let me go after I do this challenge?" Mihashi finally tried.

"You're still saying that?" Abe asked, a little irritated.  "C'mon, you can't back out after coming this far!"

Mihashi thought about it.  He finally sighed and slumped his shoulders in defeat, a little miffed that the catcher could persuade him so easily.

"Fine, I'll do it," he assented, tone dry, "But you're going to lose as well.  Thanks to yours truly."  Mihashi knew he was promising to more than just the challenge, thinking to himself, _I hope you know what you're getting yourself into.  Can you really handle a repeat?_

 _Probably not_ , he admitted, _But I'll just bolt at the first sign of trouble instead of sticking it out like last time._

"Mihashi."  Once again, Abe was breaking him out of his internal dialogues.  Mihashi drew back a little, blushing slightly.  What's up with his intense gaze?  "I'll make you into a true ace."

Mihashi gasped, eyes widening.  _Did this guy just . . . just . . . ?_   He was too shocked to cry or even blush.  _He'd do that . . . for me?_

"In return," Abe went on, "You must pitch exactly as I tell you.  I hate pitchers who shake their heads and disregard my signs."  That last part shook Mihashi out of his trance.  That's a little extreme.

Now he blushed as he realized he had just been gaping at Abe.  Hastily, he averted his eyes and crossed his arms and legs as he retorted, "Hmph, doesn't matter to me."  Out of the corner of his eye, Mihashi saw Abe narrow his eyes slightly and study him intensely for moment before letting go of whatever was bothering him.

 _That's right_ , Mihashi reminded himself, _I can't let down my guard.  I can't start relying on others again regardless of any sort of promises they make.  He might give me signs but it doesn't mean I need him.  Just like that promise doesn't mean he needs me_.

A little while later, they were set up and ready for the three-at-bat challenge.

Mihashi trembled on top of the mound, clutching the ball much too tightly.  He couldn't deny that he was nervous.  If he thought about it, which he refused to do, this was the first time he was actually playing something akin to a game since . . . since, well, that last nightmarish match with his old team.  Mihashi screwed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to block that memory out and focus on the game before him right now.

He opened his eyes to see Abe making some sort of hand motion.  _A . . . sign?  He's actually giving me one?_   Mihashi felt something warm start to bubble from his heart before he shook himself. _Stupid, most catchers do!  Stop getting distracted._   Mihashi focused in on the sign, trying to remember what it meant.  _Uh . . . throw outside . . . and high . . . to the corner . . . to pitch a ball with a fastball?  Alright_.  He wound up and threw. 

As the ball flew closer, Hanai started to swing . . .

 _He's going to hit it!_

. . . only to miss entirely.  "Strike!" the boy standing in as umpire called.

Mihashi panted, not believing his eyes.  Behind him, a couple of the boys lightly jeered and taunted Hanai.  In response, Hanai gave some sort of excuse, obviously embarrassed.

Mihashi quickly gathered himself and looked around, hoping no one saw the lapse in his facade.  He can't let them know how much it affected him that he almost got hit.  He reminded himself that he didn't care.

Abe was giving him another sign.  _Outside, low, a curveball_.  He shifted his grip slightly and threw.

This time, Hanai got a hit, exclaiming, "So slow!"  He was out in no time though.  _A grounder to shortstop,_ Mihashi thought anxiously, trying to watch the play inconspicuously and maintain a relaxed, aloof posture.  It didn't matter to him, right?

"One out," Abe called blandly.  Hanai yelled back at him, challenging him to bring it on.

 _What!?_   Mihashi eyes bugged out at Abe's next sign.  _A fastball . . . straight down the middle?_

Mihashi started to avert his eyes before suddenly recalling Abe's condition.  Or rather, his description of the kind of pitcher he hates.

 _It's not like I care what he thinks of me but still, no matter how much I'm prepared to lose, I don't want to intentionally throw to a place that I know will get hit._   Looking up slightly, he spotted Abe waiting for him, mitt held out patiently.

 _Abe . . . kun_.  The catcher's promise briefly flashed through Mihashi's mind.  _"I'll make you into a true ace."_   He blushed again. 

No matter how much he tried to deny it, Mihashi couldn't help but feel touched.  Deeply so. 

No matter how much he tried to squash it, the passion to pitch was still there.  Still _burned_.

No matter how much he tried to kill it, the yearning to have another chance just wouldn't die.

And now thanks to that Abe kid, that yearning was growing, increasing, swelling out of control.  It was overwhelming him.

 _No one's ever said something like that to me.  He's giving me a chance.  An actual chance.  And though it's pathetic and I really don't want to, not so soon after Mihoshi, not when I resolved I would never rely on anyone else ever again, even so . . .  even so, I want to believe in Abe-kun!_

He threw the ball.

Next thing Mihashi knew, the ball had landed snugly in Abe's mitt, Hanai was sitting on the ground, and the umpire boy was calling "Strike!"

 _My fastball down the middle . . . he swung and missed entirely?_

Mihashi could feel something shift in the air.  Hanai stood up slowly, face looking more focused now.

Another sign, this time an inside high fastball pitched outside of the zone.  Hanai jerked as if to swing but held back.

Mihashi didn't really understand what was going on but felt it had something to do with Abe's leading.  This was getting dangerous; very soon, he would start _needing_ Abe.  Yet, Mihashi couldn't stop himself; the thrill and exhilaration of pitching and actually playing _with_ others was too addicting.

Abe signaled for a screwball down the middle next.  The bat clanged as Hanai made contact but he popped it up into an easy out.  "Two outs," Abe remarked impassively.  Hanai squeezed his bat, frustrated, but he kept his cool this time.

 _Abe's leading has power_ , Mihashi thought, amazed, _The power to speed up my pitches . . ._   Mihashi twitched and slapped himself mentally.   _What am I thinking?  This is dangerous.  I'm already becoming dependent on him.  I have to pull out before it's too la--_

"Nice throw!"  Mihashi turned around surprised as a boy threw the ball back to him.  That cheer was followed by several others, each one accompanied with a warm smile.  Mihashi listened, confused and eyes wide.

 _I don't understand.  Are they showing me support?  But I'm not doing anything; Abe-kun is the one calling all the shots.  He's the amazing one._   Mihashi blushed and shook his head.  Not that Abe ever needed to know that.

Mihashi straightened as new thought occurred to him.

 _But . . . but they're all giving me a chance.  There's no way I can pull out now, not when maybe . . . just maybe, with this team, there's a chance I can become a true ace!_

Next sign is a high fastball down the middle.

 _An ace's balls don't get hit_ , Mihashi thought determinedly as he wound up . . .

 _They just have to reach--_

. . . and threw.

 _\--Abe's mitt!_

"Strike!"

"Hey," Hanai said disbelievingly, "Hey wait a minute!  What the hell was that!?"

"Wha--?" Mihashi got out before Hanai strode up, grabbed his shirt, and started shaking him.

"Why can a slow pitch like that float?" he demanded, "What kind of ball is that?"

"The ball floated?" some of the other guys taunted, "C'mon, don't make excuses."

"L-let go!" Mihashi gasped, trying to wrest free of Hanai's grip.  What is this guy's _problem_!?

"It floated, goddammit!" Hanai defended, still gripping Mihashi.

"That," Abe interjected, walking up to them, "Is Mihashi's fastball."

" _That's_ a fastball!?" Hanai protested incredulously, "How the hell was that straight!?"  He finally released the pitcher to face Abe.

"It wasn't," Abe agreed, unruffled, "There's no straight among Mihashi's pitches."  Mihashi jumped.  _What!?_

"His fastball is a breaking ball," Abe went on.  Someone, probably that hyper kid Tajima, loudly complained that they didn't get it.  Wasn't a fastball straight because it didn't break?

"Not really," Abe explained, "A fastball is technically a breaking ball pitched with a clean back spin.  Normally, this pitching technique is thoroughly drilled into pitchers however Mihashi has had no such training.  Thus, he can't throw straight."

Mihashi by this point had turned his back to Abe, sulkily thinking, _Well, I'm very sorry my family couldn't afford formal training and so I can't throw straight._   He reminded himself that the others' opinions of him didn't matter.  _They can always just get a new pitcher_.

"But Hanai said that just like the best pitches," Abe continued, "Mihashi's fastball floated."  Wait, is this guy praising his pitching?  Mihashi could feel his face heating up again as Abe continued to talk.  Mihashi was swimming in his thoughts as he wrestled over his conflicted feelings.  He couldn't deny that this catcher brought out the best in him as a pitcher but he didn't feel comfortable placing his life in this guy's hands like that.  Furthermore, Mihashi wasn't entirely sure he was ready to go back to playing baseball, playing on an actual team just yet.  But that chance, that possibility to be an ace hovered so tantalizingly in front of him.  And in order to become one, he had to depend on Abe; he needed his ability to bring out the best in him.

Mihashi hated it.  He hated having to break his resolution to never pitch and to never rely on others ever again so soon.  He didn't _want_ to be dependent on anyone again.  And so, Mihashi transferred some of this hate to Abe seeing as that the catcher was pretty much the one who caused all this to happen.  (Mihashi ignored the very tiny, annoying voice in the corner of his mind that mocked him saying that he didn't put up much resistance.)

He admits that he cares about pitching since he can't really live without it.  He admits that he wants to become an ace.  And in order to accomplish both, he admits very reluctantly that he needs Abe.

However, Abe doesn't need to know about any of those things.  Therefore, Mihashi made a new resolution:  He will never, _ever_ admit to Abe just how much he needs him.

"Mihashi," Abe said, addressing him once more, "Your fastball can be a powerful weapon."

"My powerful . . . weapon?" Mihashi murmured.  He reddened slightly as he wondered if Abe was praising him again.  Mihashi started getting a warm fuzzy feeling inside and smiled a little.

"But wasn't he completely useless during middle school?" someone interjected.  The smile went away.

"Oh yeah," someone else echoed.  The warm fuzzy feeling vanished.

"Well, it is just a bit higher than your usual slow fastball," Abe acceded, "It's only a idiosyncratic pitch so once they get used to it, anyone can hit it."  A lot of disappointed sighs followed that statement.  Mihashi scowled, a little stung.  _Well, excuse me for my lousy pitching.  I did warn you._  

"Then how come I didn't get used to it?" Hanai demanded. 

"Because Mihashi can pitch so that you can't get used to it," Abe answered, unruffled.  Turning to the pitcher, he asked, "Mihashi, when you throw balls, how do you divide the strike zone?"

Mihashi frowned, wondering why he cared.  "Ah, um . . . three-by-three?"  And then it clicked.  _Oh crap, now he's going to know I'm lying when I say I don't care about pitching . . ._

"Mihashi has amazing ball control skills that not even pros may have," Abe explained to the rest, "If we can utilize those skills well, frankly we can get Hanai out any number of times we want."  Hanai winced a little at that.  Mihashi, for his part, was blushing madly.  _That_ , for sure, was a compliment, and a big one at that.  Mihashi shook his head furiously, reminding himself fiercely that he didn't like this guy, that this guy's opinions or praise or _whatever_ did not matter to him!

He refused to look at the catcher even as the other approached him.  Mihashi stared at the ground as Abe said, "Mihashi, I think you have great appeal as a pitcher."  His gaze darted up at that, staring at Abe.  His cheeks burned hotly.  _Th-this guy . . ._

Swiftly flipping his head to the side and crossing his arms ( _no_ , he was _not_ crossing them because he felt exposed), Mihashi stammered out, "D-doesn't matter to me.  I'm just f-folllowing you is all."  He glanced back to see Abe giving him a strange look.  Partly irritated, partly mystified, partly satisfied.  Mihashi twitched and quickly shifted his gaze back to the side. 

Mihashi stiffened when he felt Abe grasp his shoulder.  _Holy hell, he's touching me!_   The place of contact burned, the warmth rapidly flowing out to other parts of his body.

"This guy from now on will become a pitcher that can win against any kind of hitter," Abe declared to the rest of the group, "Now if we have fielders to catch the balls that were hit and batters to score in runs, we can make it all the way to Koushien!"

There was an awed pause of silence as that statement sunk into the rest of the guys.

Except for the place where Abe's hand gripped his shoulder, Mihashi suddenly felt very cold.  "No way."

"THE HELL!?" the guys shouted in protest.

"Hey!" Hanai snapped at Mihashi.  "Whether we can or cannot go, at least aim for it!"

"At least!?" the hyper kid Tajima exclaimed, "Why?  I'm completely gung-ho!"

"N-no way," Mihashi stammered out again.  There's just no way . . . !  All that pressure . . . And he failed . . . Holy crap, no matter how much nicer these guys might seem to be, there's no way they won't hate him afterwards.  It'll be a repeat!  There's no way in hell he can deal with that again!

Hanai grabbed him and shook him.  Mihashi's head flopped back and forth wildly.  "What the hell?!  How can you not care!?  Don't say 'no way'!  At least aim for it!  At least!"

"Again, why is it 'at least'!?" Tajima yelled.

"Those who truly enjoy baseball," a calm voice interrupted, "Are only those who truly try to win."  The woman who had dragged him here, Momoe, slowly walked up to the group of them.  "I want to win," she continued, advancing up to Mihashi, "I won't give the ace number one to someone who says 'no way' and 'I don't care' and brings down the team's morale from the very start!"  Her gaze bored into his.

He dropped his head.  "I-I care," he muttered.  _I can't lie to this woman . . ._

"If you piss me off too much," she warned, picking up a bat, "I'll hit you."  Mihashi balked.  _Where the hell did that come from!?_

She then grinned and faced the group.  "Starting from today for the next two weeks, we'll re-train your entrance-exam-weakened bodies back into shape and have a training camp during Golden Week.  Then at the end, let's play a practice game against Mihoshi Academy!"  Her tone turned positively impish at the end.

Mihashi's stomach plummted.  His former teammates hostile, angry faces flashed before his eyes.

 _You're not the ace!_

 _That's not your number!_

 _Give that number one to Kanou already!_

"NO WAY IN HE--."  Momoe promptly whacked him with the bat, sending him flying to land on his face several meters away.

"You better quit that half-assed attitude!" she threatened, "Or I won't let you even touch the mound!"

"Even if you say that," Hanai remarked bravely, "It's not like it'll fix his personality.  If he doesn't care to play, he wont.  You might as well tell him to quit being a pitcher."  Abe remained silent, a slightly puzzled look on his face as he watched Mihashi get up.

"I . . . I," Mihashi faltered.  He didn't even know what he wanted to say.  Nervously, he looked up to see Momoe grasping an orange.  _What is she--_

The orange exploded in her grip, sending chunks of fruit flying everywhere.  Mihashi could feel a chunk land on his cheek and slowly slide off.  A dog came up to lick at the juice dripping from her hand.

"I'm completely serious," she declared, eyes burning, "If you truly want to become our ace, then show me that you can change that disposition!"

Mihashi worked his throat, trying to say something.  He gave up and tried to swallow the huge lump in his throat instead. 

 _This woman, for real, scares the crap out of me._

 _What have I gotten myself into?  I should have never come here._

 _I want it but I don't want to show it . . ._

 _But . . . but . . . the chance . . ._

 _Me . . . an ace . . ._


	2. Bus Scene - Episode 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewrite of the bus scene from episode 2.

"Abe."

"Yes?"  The catcher turned to see Mr. Shiga kneeling beside him.  The landscaped drifted past as the bus rattled on.

"Mihashi looks carsick.  Give him this medicine and look after him a bit."

Abe made a face.  "What?  Me?"  He leaned up and over his seat to see Mihashi sitting at the back of the bus.  Or rather sprawled at the back, legs up on the seat and leaning his head on the window with a hand over his face.  He was definitely looking a little green.

"I might not know much about baseball but the battery is supposed to be of one body and one mind, right?"  Mr. Shiga smiled, waving the packet of medicine.  "So, look after your pitcher, won't you?"

"Ah, right," Abe answered, somewhat unconvinced.  Nevertheless, he took the medicine and made his way to the back.  "Mihashi," he called.

The pitcher weakly lifted his hand to see who had called him.  He jumped when he saw it was Abe, and hastily tried to rearrange himself into a sitting position.  _Why him of all people?_   Except the rapid movements only made him feel even more nauseated.  He hunched over, clutching his stomach and covering his mouth, hoping to god that he didn't throw up.

"If you get carsick easily," Abe went on, choosing to ignore Mihashi's behavior, "You should've taken the medicine before getting on." 

"I-I'm not carsick," Mihashi muttered.  He straightened up and looked out the window, trying to valiantly ignore his growing headache.

Abe frowned.  _He obviously is so why is he trying to hide it?_   "Sure," he remarked and sat down beside the other boy.

 _Why won't he leave me alone?_ Mihashi thought irritably.  "Look, I don't need you to mother me," he snapped, still looking out the window.  His heart was beating fast because of the carsickness, _not_ because Abe was sitting next to him.

Abe twitched.  _What is this guy's problem?_   "Just take the damn medicine," he finally said, shoving it under the other's nose.  Mihashi glared at him weakly but took the medicine anyway.  After all, he didn't know how much farther their destination was.

"Thanks," he mumbled sullenly, gulping down the medicine with some water.  "I'm not usually like this," he added, reluctant to make Abe think he was needy or dependent.

"What?  Are you ill?"

"Why do you care?" Mihashi retorted.  He leaned back closing his eyes, trying to will away his blush.  Why won't this guy just go back to his seat already?

Abe scowled but paused as a new thought struck him.  "Say, why are you always saying that you don't care about pitching?"  Mihashi eyes popped open.  _Crap, he saw right through me!_

"I don't know what you're talking about."  Mihashi stared determinedly out the window, arms crossed defensively.  He was _not_ blushing!

"You're not fooling anyone."

"Don't I have to prove to the coach that I care?"  His tone was acerbic.

"Alright, fine, you may have fooled some people but I'm not one of them."

Mihashi remained stubbornly silent.

"You have a nine-section strike zone, you can throw four different kinds of breaking balls, and on top of all that, you have that amazing ball control.  Would someone who didn't care be able to do all that?"

Mihashi's cheeks burned.  "What does it matter to you?  Leave me alone already."  He refused to look at Abe.

Abe twitched, his irritation growing by the second.  _Why is this guy trying to deny it?  It's so obvious he wants to pitch that there's no way the coach doesn't know.  So I don't understand why she said that . . . Well, whatever the case is, I don't want him cut as our ace pitcher.  Regardless of what he says, he has that great ball control.  Plus, he's a pitcher that doesn't act independently on the mound.  An ideal ace._

Mihashi shifted his eyes over to glance at him.  When he made eye contact, he blushed and turned back to the window. 

Abe frowned and leaned back, closing his eyes.  _I'll just ignore the rest of it then_.

Mihashi looked back once more to see that this time Abe was ignoring him.  He hurriedly looked away, refusing to admit that he was a little stung by that.  _So what?  I don't care what this guy thinks of me.  Just because I have to rely on him doesn't mean I have to like him._   He thought back to Momoe's challenge two weeks before.  _I want the ace position but I don't want to show anyone that I want it.  If I do, then . . ._   Mihashi shook his head, trying to shake off those thoughts.  _At any rate, I can't let anyone get close to me.  I have to keep my distance.  Especially from this guy._   The pitcher glanced angrily at the catcher sitting so close beside him.  _Except he won't leave me alone!_


	3. Hand-Holding Scene - Episode 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's THAT scene.

He couldn't stop shaking.

He was barely aware of Abe in front of him and his hand trembled so much he couldn't pitch properly. 

Even though this place, this field was familiar to him, it didn't relax him one bit.  Actually, it only added to his anxiety.

Fight or flight?  Flight, flight, flight, flight, flight . . .

He stiffened when he heard familiar voices.  _Crap, they're here!_   His urge to flee instantly quadrupled.

"Yoooo!"  _That voice . . . !_

Mihashi's will broke.  He tore off his mitt and made as if to run then remembered something.  Addressing Abe over his shoulder, he clipped, "I'll be right back," then strode away as fast as he could without actually breaking into a run.  The last thing he needed was for this guy to follow him.

"Hey, wait, where are you go--!" Abe protested.  _How is this guy so fast just_ walking _?_

Mihashi stopped when he reached the back of the clubhouse.  Propping himself against the wall with an arm, he vomited what little he ate in the morning.  Dry heaving a couple more times before finally wiping his mouth, he scooted over a bit before sliding down into a crumpled heap.  He hugged his knees and leaned his head against the wall as he whispered to himself over and over again, "I'm sorry, why am I here, I don't care, I'm sorry, don't need any of you guys, screw you all, I'm sorry, why am I doing this again, I'm sorry, what the hell am I doing, I'm sorry, just wanted a chance, never again, don't care, I'm sorry, don't need you, never again, don't need anyone, I'm sorry, leave me alone, never again, I'm sorry, just want to be alone, never again, I'm sorry, never again, I'm so--"

"Hey."

Mihashi flinched.  Swallowing the bile that quickly rose in his throat, he slowly stood up.  Without turning around, he said, "Ha-ha-hatake-kun."  He winced; he couldn't control his stutter at all.

"As usual, you still have annoying way of talking."

Mihashi tried to hide his trembling but it was only getting worse.  "P-p-p-piss off."  He was still facing the wall.

"Why are you still a pitcher?  Why are you here to play against us?"  He could hear Hatake take a step closer.  "I thought you said you didn't care about pitching.  That you didn't care about baseball.  That as soon as you left Mihoshi, you would quit.  What happened to all that?"  Another step closer.  "Well, it's not like we couldn't see right through your pathetic little lies." 

Mihashi was shaking so violently now that his teeth clattered.  He hastily covered his mouth to try and still them.  Meanwhile, Hatake stepped closer, leaning in to whisper menacingly into his ex-teammates ear, "It's not like you aren't aware of what we think of you, right?"

Mihashi gulped.  "I-I-I d-d-don't c-care what you g-guys think," he bluffed ineptly.  "Y-you guys mean n-n-n-nothing t-t-t-to me."  Bullshit.  They meant too much which is why . . . which is why . . . !

Hatake ignored him.  "Forcing us to make you the ace through nepotism, making us lose all three years in middle school -- no one's forgiven you for all that yet!"  Hatake grabbed his shoulder, spun him around, and slammed him against the wall.

Mihashi gasped, tearing up from the slight pain. "Would it have been better if I broke your arm that time, huh?"  Mihashi began to cry in earnest, staring fearfully up into Hatake's face.  "Do we have to go that far in order for you to finally get it!?"

Mihashi could only tremble and gaze up at him, wide-eyed with terror and tears spilling over uncontrollably.  Hatake glared at him murderously.

"Mihashi," someone called.  Hatake stiffened and took a step back, releasing the pitcher.  Immediately, Mihashi's legs gave out and he collapsed into a heap at the foot of the wall.

Abe ducked through the bushes, looking around.  He paused when he saw the other catcher, greeting, "Oh, hello."

"Hi," Hatake returned stiffly.  Turning back to the quivering pitcher, he said coldly, "Later, Mihashi," before walking off.

Mihashi wasn't sure if he wanted kiss and hug the crap out of Abe or if Abe was the last person he wanted to see right now.  Probably both.

Abe waited until Hatake was out of earshot before asking Mihashi, "What did he mean 'break your arm'?"  Mihashi desperately tried to stop his crying.  He didn't want to leave himself vulnerable like this in front of anybody, especially Abe!

Abe crouched down in front of him.  "Hey, if he really did something like that, you can't keep quiet about it!"

"P-piss off," Mihashi mumbled, keeping his face down.  He gathered himself and turned sideways to lean against the wall before adding, "J-just leave me alone."

"Hey!" Abe shouted, frustrated, "I'm seriously concerned here!  Did he break your arm?"

"No!" Mihashi yelled back.  Dammit, why was this guy so persistent?  "H-he just wanted to let Kanou pitch," he explained reluctantly, hoping that if he did, Abe would go away.  "But I-I didn't give up the mound . . . since I d-didn't care if I stayed o-or not, I j-just stayed.  S-so it's not his fault." 

 _There he goes with that I-don't-care crap again!_   Abe thought irritably, _Doesn't he realize that reasoning makes no sense?_   "But does that justify him threatening you like that!?"

"Kanou's the better pitcher," Mihashi added, trying to keep his voice steady, "And he was liked by everyone while I was hated.  Not that I cared what they thought of me."  He curled up tighter, thinking, _There, satisfied?  Now let me sob in peace._  

Abe scowled.  _You obviously care or you wouldn't be such an emotional train-wreck right now.  At any rate, you won't be able to pitch at all in this condition_.  He paused as he recalled his conversation with Momokan some nights before.  Gritting his teeth, he reached out and grabbed Mihashi's hand, pulling him around to face him.

Mihashi glanced up, startled.  _What the--!?_

"It's alright.  You're a good pitcher."

Mihashi reddened.  "You're lying," he retorted, "Let go of me."  He flipped his head to the side, unwilling to show Abe he's blushing, and tugged on his hand. 

Abe gripped tighter.  "You're a good pitcher!" he repeated. 

"Lies!" Mihashi shouted and jerked on his hand.  _What is this guy doing!?_

"You _are_ a good pitcher!" Abe bit out, tenaciously holding on.

"ALL LIES!  LET GO ALREADY!"  Mihashi tried to yank his hand back again.  His tears were spilling now for a very different reason from earlier.  Abe did _not_ make him feel self-conscious!

Abe ground his teeth, red from embarrassment.  _Goddammit, when the coach did this to me, I broke right away!_

Mihashi squirmed and pulled on his arm, desperate to get away.  _If this guy won't leave then I'll just have to go somewhere else!_

Abe glared at Mihashi, refusing to let go.  _Why is this guy so stubborn?_   He took a deep breath, calming himself. _Even so, his hand is really cold.  There's no doubt he's nervous._   When Abe shifted his grip a little, his eyes widened in surprise.  _Woah, his fingertips are hard.  The blisters have turned into calluses._   He slid his fingers over Mihashi's, commenting as he went, _Slider calluses, screwball calluses . . . This guy, in order to form these calluses, in order to fine-tune that ball control, how many pitches did he throw?  He's worked this hard yet . . ._

Mihashi was backed up against the wall now, still trying to free his hand.  "You know what?  Screw this.  As I thought, I really don't care about pitching.  Now let me go!"  He knew it, he should have never gone to the field that day.  He should have stuck to his original resolution and remained a loner all through high school.  It would have been safer that way, _much_ safer.

Abe gazed at the wriggling pitcher, reflecting, _He's not stubborn.  He just has no confidence.  Despite throwing this much, he can't be confident.  And so he hides under a facade of disinterest and indifference.  It's those guys from middle school.  They picked away at his confidence until nothing was left.  Without even trying to understand this guy who's worked so hard, they chased him off their team!_

Mihashi slowly stopped squirming when he realized that he was not the only one shaking.  He cautiously looked back at Abe only to gasp in surprise.  There were tears in the catcher's eyes.

"You're a good pitcher," Abe reiterated softly.  His hand that grasped Mihashi's shook violently.  _You piss me off and irritate me but even so . . ._  Abe wiped away his tears and looked Mihashi directly in the eyes.  "Not only as pitcher, I like you yourself!"

Mihashi inhaled sharply, face rapidly heating up.  His heart pounded in his ears as he frantically reminded himself that he was not gay, he was not gay, he was not ga--

"It's just that, you're working so hard!" Abe exclaimed, interrupting the other boy's thoughts.  Looking back up, Abe thought, _I want to do something for this guy.  I want to help him, support him!_   Abe eyes widened as he realized something.  _Is that the catcher's role?_   He blinked, glancing at their joined hands.  _His hand's warming up._

"I . . . I," Mihashi began, causing Abe to look back at him.  "I guess I'm really not fooling anyone, am I?"  He skirted Abe's gaze, choosing instead to look at the ground.  His face burned slightly.

"Not really," Abe smiled.

"So you can really tell that I'm working hard?"

Abe nodded.  "Yeah, I can."

"And that I care?"

Abe nodded again.  "Yes."

Mihashi exhaled quietly.  "The truth is, I actually really like being a pitcher."

"I could tell from the beginning."

His head darted up in shock.  "You could?" he asked incredulously.  His cheeks flushed in mortification.  Either this guy was a mind-reader or he can't lie for crap!

"It's pretty obvious."  _What!?_  

Mihashi made a face and looked back down at the ground.  "And . . . well," Mihashi couldn't believe he was admitting all this, much the less to Abe of all people.  "And well, I --" he was blushing furiously now "-- I want to . . . win."

Abe squeezed Mihashi's hand.  "We can!"  The pitcher looked up, locking eyes with the catcher. 

 _Abe-kun is giving me his support_ , Mihashi thought in amazement, _He's not only giving me a chance, he's also giving me his support!_   Mihashi felt his blush grow impossibly hotter.  He swallowed as he started getting teary-eyed again.  He shook his head and tried to school his face back into a normal expression.  _I can't let him know how touched I am or how important that means to me._   His heart started pounding loudly as he recalled what Abe said to him right after wiping his tears away.  _"Not only as a pitcher, I like you yourself!"_   He gulped again. _That's right, I have to keep my distance._  

Mihashi looked levelly at Abe, and asked, "Can you let go of my hand now?"

Abe reddened but stood up, helping pull Mihashi to his feet before finally releasing his grip.  "Alright, let's go then.  Before the game starts, tell me about each batter's habits and patterns."

"Fine with me," Mihashi answered, brushing himself off. 

Abe watched him, thinking to himself, _Mihashi may actually be a simple guy to understand._

Mihashi straightened up and smirked at Abe, adding, "Oh and by the way, Abe-kun, you sounded really gay there for a moment."  He brushed past Abe and started heading back to the field.  Yes, he had to keep his distance.

Abe blushed hotly and glared after the pitcher.  _Scratch that, I don't understand this guy at all!_


	4. Shower Scene - Episode 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewrite of the shower scene from episode 8 during the Tosei game.

_This is bad_ , Abe thought as he rounded the corner.

Mihashi sat crumpled on the floor, a hand hanging loosely from the shower knob as he drenched himself in the spray.

 _Feels good_.  Mihashi sighed in relief.  In spite of the clammy rain, his body was burning up.   At the sound of footsteps, he turned his head in surprise then flushed when he saw it was Abe.  He quickly turned back to face the wall, turning off the shower and arranging himself into a stiff seiza.  He clenched his hands tightly in his lap and chewed his lower lip as he fought back tears.  He would _not_ cry in front of that irritable grouch of a catcher.  He can still pitch!  He wants to pitch!

Not that he would ever admit it to _him_ . . .

Abe crouched behind Mihashi. "Give me your hand."

Mihashi's only response was to hunch his shoulders.

Abe frowned, eye twitching. _Of all the times to . . ._   He took a deep calming breath.  "Your right hand," he added after a moment.

A pause.  "I'm fine," Mihashi finally whispered.  Quieter than he intended, but at least his voice was steady and firm.

Abe gritted his teeth.  "Goddammit Mihashi, just give me your hand!"  Abe lunged and grabbed Mihashi's right hand, his _pitching_ hand.

Mihashi flushed.  His eyes widened for a moment but then narrowed as he looked off to the side.  He couldn't face Abe, not like this, not when--

Abe shook his hand a little, bringing Mihashi's attention back to him.  "Try gripping my hand as tightly as possible."

Mihashi gulped.  Face growing steadily redder (he didn't need this, he didn't need _him_ , LET GO, why can't he just leave him alone, why was his heart beating so _goddam fast_?!), he squeezed.

Or tried to.

Panic was slowly welling up inside Mihashi.  He squeezed again.  And again.  And again and again.

 _No.  No no no . . ._

He looked up at Abe.  He could read his thoughts clearly on his stricken face.  _His grip . . ._

 _NO!_   Mihashi gritted his teeth.  There was no way he was going to let Abe of all people see how much he wanted to pitch, how much he _needed_ to pitch.

But above that, there was no way he was going show Abe how much he needed him at this moment.  How much he depended on him.  How much he needed him to believe that he can still be their ace.

He couldn't let go.  He hated it but he couldn't let go of Abe's hand.

"I-I'm fine."  Goddammit, that stupid stutter was back.  That stupid stutter that materialized at the worst moments, at the times when he needed to seem the most aloof and self-reliant.  Times like now where he was breaking down with nervousness and fear and panic.  Times when he needed someone to lean on.

Goddammit!  He doesn't need anyone!  He's a goddamn pitcher, right?  All pitchers stand alone on the mound, right?

"I'm f-fine," Mihashi repeated, tears finally spilling over.  "I-I . . . can still . . . p-pit--"

He jumped and let go when the sound of running footsteps and a cry of "There you are, Ren-Ren!" filled the air.

Abe turned slightly, bemused.  "Ren . . . Ren?"

Mihashi stared.  What was his cousin doing here?  "Ruri?"

He listened, stunned, as Ruri babbled on about how Kanou just texted her saying how Mihoshi won in a called game and that Kanou struck out all three batters in the seventh inning! 

"Ka, Ka, Ka . . . " he babbled, unable to believe his ears.

Ruri stepped forward, excitedly repeating, "Like I said, Kanou--!"

"Hey, what's this?"  A custodian stepped inside frowning.

"Ka--," Mihashi repeated blankly.

"Spectators aren't allowed here," the custodian admonished.  Ruri darted away, stammering out an apology on the way.

Abe stood up, gazing after her.  _Who was that?  A Mihoshi acquaintence?_   He flipped back when he heard Mihashi stand up and slowly walk out.  _His facial expression changed . . ._

"Ren-Ren~"  Mihashi flipped around.

"Oh my god, you're 'Ren-Ren'?!" Tajima yelled.  Behind him, Suyama and Oki were valiantly trying to stifle their laughter while Mizutani broke down completely, guffawing and sing-songing "Ren-Ren~ Ren-Ren~"

"Where did you guys come from?" Abe asked, surprised.  "Do you know that girl?"

Mihashi reddened and gave Tajima a dirty look.  "Sh-sh-sh-shut up!" he stammered, mortified.

Abe looked behind him to see Sakaeguchi squirming, blushing, and muttering something to himself.  _What's up with that?_ he thought, quirking an eyebrow.

Tajima approached Mihashi, commenting, "Mihashi, you're making a weird face again!"

"Weird!?"

"Here, squeeze."  Tajima offered his hand.  Mihashi glanced at it, glanced back at Tajima, shrugged, and squeezed his hand.  "Ow, ow, ow!"  Tajima yanked his hand back and shook it, saying, "Well, your grip is still good."

 _What?_   Abe stepped forward and offered his hand.  "Try once more!"  Mihashi had a brief moment of annoyance ( _why him?_ ) but swallowed it and quickly squeezed Abe's hand.  Abe jerked and gritted his teeth.  _Ow!_

Mihashi released the pressure as both he and Abe looked at each other, realization dawning on their faces.

Then Mihashi noticed that he was still holding Abe's hand.  Flustered, he immediately let go and turned around, huffing, "See?  Told you I was fine."  He refused to look at the catcher.  "I don't need any coddling, especially from you."  He wasn't blushing because he was touched by Abe's concern.  He wasn't!  It's . . . it's just hot in the locker room!

Abe stood there, stunned and little piqued.  _Why you little--!_

"Hey!" Hanai stuck his head into the locker room.  "Game's resuming.  Back to the dugout now!"

"Right!" the guys called out in unison, and started to file back in, calling out to each other about who's next to bat and let's take back the lead and such.

Mihashi followed and leaned on the dugout rail, gazing out at the field.  _We'll take back the lead because we're going to win!_   He peered sidelong at Abe beside him and added, _And I'll show him that I don't need to rely on anyone, especially him!_


End file.
